


seventeen

by Pomfry



Category: Original Work
Genre: Being an Actual Ray of Sunshine, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Gen, Protectiveness, with a smile that's sharp enough to draw blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:19:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomfry/pseuds/Pomfry
Summary: "You're a madman," Louis whispers, awestruck. Amy has always been stubborn, always been righteous, but - this is taking it to a new level.Amy's lips tick up, her eyes sparkle with mischief as she laughs. "I'd have to be a man to be that!" She says cheerfully, and Louis stares at her for a long moment.





	seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> just something i've been working on. Don't know if I'll continue it, but, hey! I like it!

"Amy, you can't be serious," Louis says desperately, grabbing her arm. Amy looks back at him, her red hair a shroud around her head, and her green eyes are calm, her brow devoid of any doubt. "Amy!"  
  
"It's what I have to do," she says solemnly, her freckled fingers clenched tight. Her knuckles are white as she stares hard at the ground, jaw set.  
  
"You're a madman," Louis whispers, awestruck. Amy has always been stubborn, always been righteous, but - this is taking it to a new level.  
  
Amy's lips tick up, her eyes sparkle with mischief as she laughs. She pulls her arm out of his grasp, stretching her hands above her head. Her spine curves with the motion, an elegant angle. She’s always been graceful. "I'd have to be a man to be that!" She says cheerfully, and Louis stares at her for a long moment. Then he groans, hanging his head as a helpless smile plays on his face.  
  
"You would," he agrees. "Then you're a madwoman."  
  
"That's better." She claps him on the shoulder. "Everything will be fine. Don't worry. I'll make everything be fine." She sends him a grin. "Have I ever been wrong?"  
  
Louis laughs at that, shaking his head. No, she hasn't. Amy is always right, after all. "No."

"Then don't worry your pretty little head." She turns on her heel and sprints away, her long hair swinging behind her as she chases after the man kidnapping the little girl outside. Louis watches her, a little hopeless and feeling more than a little upset. Amy has always been better at misdirection than him, better at easing the conversation the way she wants it to go.  
  
Yet again, she has fooled him, reassured him. And, yet again, he fell for it, for the illusion she weaves with her words.  
  
He tugs at his bangs, paces around the room. Amy will be okay, he thinks, again and again, trying to find comfort in the words. Amy is indomitable, a pillar of strength in the tumultuous world around her. She'll be fine.  
  
She has to be. Louis doesn’t know what he would do without her, doesn’t know what his world would look like without her fiery spirit, her cackles. He doesn’t know and he’s terrified to find out.

“Please be okay,” he whispers into the silence.

Please come back to me. You promised you would never leave me, he thinks, and turns on his heel, his scarlet scarf warm against his chin. The scarf was from Amy, from when they were in third grade and his throat had gotten too cold one too many times. Amy had bought it with her allowance, told him that it was to show he was her best friend because of her red hair. He’d laughed, then. Told her it was ridiculous. He’s worn it ever since.

He scratches his nose. The police, as he and Amy have learned, are corrupted. Deceitful. That’s why he didn’t call them. A five year old was being kidnapped and the police would have looked the other way.

When he was in first grade, he’d almost got taken. Amy had thrown her bookbag at the man with a screech, screaming and screaming and scared him off. She’d then declared him her freckle bud because of the freckles on her skin and his face, and that had been that. They’ve been best friends ever since.

Their town - it isn’t safe. It isn’t a place where one can burn so brightly, smile so widely as Amy does. Louis has known this since he was in kindergarten, since he was toddling around after his father. Their town is soaked in blood and prejudice and old grudges. Drugs run through it like a river, blood sprays the walls. Their town isn’t safe and he’s long since accepted that. Amy though - Amy grins all the while, daring anyone to snuff her out. She’s seventeen and her hair is tight in a braid, her knuckles bleeding from fighting.

Louis - he has a plan. When they turn eighteen, when they graduate, they’re leaving. He’s taking Amy with him. He can’t imagine a world without her in it. They won’t ever return, not _ever._

Their town isn’t safe and Louis is all of seventeen, with a chip on his shoulder and anxiety in his chest with an unbeatable best friend made of fire and anger and determination at his side. He’s seventeen and he won’t let the darkness that lurks around corners beat him, won’t let it cow him. He’s seventeen with nerves of steel and a perpetual disappointment in humanity. He’s seventeen with a best friend who’s too good for this town, and he won’t let anything happen to her.

At least...he hopes he does. Amy is gone, out trying to save a little girl with brown skin and curly hair, and Louis can’t do anything beyond hope and plead with anything that will listen that she’ll come back. Amy is gone and he can’t do anything to protect her.

Here’s the thing. Louis is seventeen and he protects his best friend from the shadows as she shines in the light. People are drawn to Amy as moths are drawn to light, and -

And he doesn’t want her to be covered with a palm until she crumples.

Amy is seventeen with fire for hair and precious stones for eyes, with star dots upon her skin and constellations on her cheeks. She has resolve in her heart and willpower in her veins and a grin that’s too wide, too sharp. She has split skin from punching people in the face, bruises on her arms from her father. She has braids in her hair and crooked teeth. She reaches out with too much heart, too much empathy, and people - they always take it. They always, always take it.

Louis sighs, plays with the ragged ends of his scarf. Amy had bought it too big on purpose, saying that she wanted him to have it for years, and - it’s worked. He’s had it since he was ten. For seven years now, he’s wound it around his neck every day, worn it with a faithfulness that borders on absurd. But - it’s from Amy, so he thinks it’s okay.

He rests against the wall, sighing. Amy is fire and blood and a deep seeded desire to help. She won’t be forced to fall to her knees just yet.

He hopes.

“Hey, Louis!”

Louis jerks, head snapping to the right as Amy marches towards him, scrapes on her knees and blood on her skin. There’s something wild in her eyes, something unattainable unless you’re her, and there’s a little girl with tear stains on her cheeks and Amy’s jacket around her shoulders.

Louis smiles despite himself. “Hey!” he calls back, reaching out to ruffle the girl’s hair. “How’d it go?”

Amy’s smile is full of teeth. “Good.”

Louis laughs. “That’s good. So what’s her name?”

“Jessica,” the little girl interrupts, and Amy grins at her, babbling about something or another as Louis watches on happily.

Yeah, he thinks. Amy won’t be taken down until she’s ready - and she won’t ever be.

If something tries to force her - well. That’s what Louis is here for.

They’re almost ready to leave. A few more months and then they leave. Just a few more months. They can make it.

Louis’ smile twitches. They can make it.

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and brighten up my day and are saved in my Gmail.
> 
> Also! Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) Come visit and chat with me if you want!


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